Aunt Barbree applied this treatment for a time, but dropped it in the end. The boy was growing too tall for it. The visit to the doctor, however, worked like a miracle in one way.
"Auntie," said the penitent one day, "I'm feeling a different boy altogether, this last week or two."
"I reckoned you would," said Aunt Barbree.
"My appetite's improving. Have you noticed my appetite?"
"Heaven is my witness!" said Aunt Barbree. The cherry season was beginning. She had consulted with a friend of hers in Saltash, the wife of a confectioner. It seems that apprentices in the confectionery trade are allowed to eat pastry and lollypops without let or hindrance, until they take a surfeit and are cured for ever after. Aunt Barbree was beginning to wonder why the cure worked so slow in the case of fresh fruit. "Heaven is my witness, I have!" said Aunt Barbree.
"There's a complete change coming over my constitution," said Nandy, pensive-like. "I feel it hardening every day: and as for my skull, why— talk about Brazil nuts!—I believe I could crack cherry-stones with it."
"I beg you won't try," pleaded Aunt Barbree, for this trick of Nandy's always gave her the shivers.
"A head like mine was meant for something worthier than civil life. I've been turnin' it over—"
"Turnin' what over?"
"Things in general," said Nandy; "and the upshot is, I've a great mind to 'list for a sojer."